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Monday, May 1, 2017

Chapter 332 Independence Day

“Cassandra, this doesn’t change anything,” Frankie said. “We’re still the same family we’ve always been. We just have different titles now. Okay, I’m you’re father not your brother and Pops is your grandfather…doesn’t really change much at all, cuz we all love
you very much... just the same as always.”

“With that kinda love I could sure use some
indifference,” she mumbled, grabbing
several tissues and wiping away the wetness on her cheeks.

“I’m not going down to face a room full of liars and pretend that
everything is fine when it’s so not fine. Nothing will ever be fine again,” she said with a loud, unladylike blowing of her nose.

“Enough of this. Stop acting like a baby!” he said. “If it wasn’t for us you’d be in foster care... or much worse. You wouldn’t even be here. Donna’s parents wanted her to
get an abortion and when she refused they made her give you up for adoption even
though she didn’t want to.”

It
felt to Cassandra like a bucket of ice water had been poured into her chest and
a rusty sword driven into her already bruised, battered and now shattered heart. She slowly turned to face him, her face a mask of fury. “Are you saying that my mother, my real mother is still alive? She wanted to keep me but they wouldn’t let her?”

“Really, I have no idea if she’s alive or not,” Frankie said. “We took you from the
hospital as soon as you were born. We left Queens, moved to Catalpa Valley and
never saw any of them again.”

“You horrible, fucking bastard!” she said through
clenched teeth. “All my life I thought my mother was
dead. I thought… My whole life is a lie, one huge fucking lie!”

A muscle worked along his jaw as he listened to her retched
sobbing. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry it couldn’t be different. I’d change things if I could, but it is what it is, Cassandra. There’s no use dwelling on it.”

“Sure, you’d like that,” she muttered derisively. “Just pretend it doesn’t matter. Well, I can see it doesn't matter to you. Why should it? You get to do whatever you want, but it sure as hell matters to me!”

“Relax, okay? Let’s go eat and…”

“No! If I eat now I'll puke.”

“Please come down, Cassandra” he pleaded. “What possible reason could I tell them for you
not being down there for Christmas dinner? Pops will have a cow!” "Then let him have a cow!" she shouted. "Cassandra, he's sick, he's old..." “Tell them I have a headache. Tell them I
drowned in the bathtub. Tell Papa I have menstrual cramps and that’s why I’m bitched out. That he’d understand …sexist pig that he is,” she said.

“Then tell them I jumped out of the window and flew to the North
Pole in search of Santa,” she snapped. “I DON’T CARE what you tell them. I owe them no explanation. They’ve always treated me like shit and now I know why. I was never wanted... I’m illegitimate!”

She turned away again and cried until she thought she could
cry no more. At last she slumped down on the chair at her desk, drained and ill,
glad to finally be alone, only she wasn’t. That was when she saw
Frankie crouching beside her, a pained expression on his face.

“What do you want from me?” she said. “I’m not going down. You
can’t make me. I couldn’t eat even if I wanted
to. I’ll just get sick.”

“I’m sorry, Cassandra.
Really I am,” he said.

“Sure you are,” she said.

"Cassandra, you're wrong. You were wanted...by all of us."

"Right," she muttered. "Listen to me," he said, taking a fortifying breath.

“After everyone’s gone, you can ask me
anything about Donna and I’ll tell you everything,” Frankie said. “Whatever I know.”

“Oh, wow,” she said, pretending gaiety. “ Lucky me. We’ll have a nice little chat about my real parents who never wanted me and couldn’t wait to get rid of me.”

Frankie sighed and stood up. “I wish you’d …”

“Just get over it? Yeah, real soon, like when pigs start flying,” she said.

“You’re in shock right now, but you’ll see…after the shock wears off…”

“You wanna shock, Frankie?" Cassandra said, viciously. "I’ll never forgive you. I hate you. I hate all of you with every fiber of my being.”

A brick to the face couldn’t have made him look
more stunned. “You don’t mean that,” he said, a note of panic in his strangled voice.

She looked away. “You never believe anything I say so why would you start now?”

Frankie stared at her for a long time, the muscle working
along his jaw. “All right. You can go to college,” he said. “I’ll fix it with Pop.”

“My ass you will. Leave me alone, Frankie,” she pleaded, putting her aching head in her hands. “For the love of God just go away and leave me alone. Pretend I don't exist. You've been doing it all your life. Why stop now?”

“I never...” he said. “Did you ever wonder why I didn't try to get Pops to change his mind about college? Well, it wasn't really up to him. If I had said you should go he would not have stopped you. I was the one that stopped you from going away to school.""Why?" she said, taking another blow to the heart. "Why would you do that when you knew how much I wanted to go?""Cuz...cuz I got to know what an enormously special person you are. When I came back from Afghanistan all busted up and half dead and you were so sweet and caring. You took care of me and... and I realized for maybe the first time that I created you...with Donna's help, of course. You grew up to be so smart and so pretty and so sweet...so much like Donna. I'd forgotten how much...and I hated that I missed you growing up. I was overseas away from home for so much of your life. I never really got to know you or spend any time with you...until now. So, I didn't want you to go away...not yet. I knew you'd soon get a boyfriend and get married and have kids and then...I'd never see you. So, I did the selfish thing...again. I asked you to help me out with the club. I didn't know how much I would really need you, cuz I never imagined how good you'd be at the numbers thing. I was never good at that, but for you...God, you're amazing! And I loved having you right there beside me nearly every night...my beautiful daughter...my perfect little girl...who wasn't so little anymore... as much as I tried to convince myself that you were."He was silent for a long time, trying to keep his emotions in check. At last he added, "Any university you want, okay? And I’ll even put you through
medical school, too, if that’s what you really want.”

Cassandra hesitated a moment, because that indeed was exactly
what she had wanted for ever so long, but she didn’t believe it would happen regardless what he said. “Too little too late, Frankie,” she said.
“Please go.”

“You think on it. Pick out a school to apply to. I’m serious. I'm sure you’ll like the idea after the shock of this wears
off. I’ll come back later…we can talk some more and I’ll bring you up a plate, okay? There are some great desserts down in the kitchen” he said.

“If you care at all about me, just leave me alone,” she said. “Please!”

He sighed again. “Fine,” he said, heading for
the door. He put his good hand on the knob and turned back. “Will you be all right, Cassandra?”

“Hunky-dory,” she replied grabbing another tissue.

Frankie shook his head and left.

After wiping her eyes, Cassandra blew her nose again.

She got up from her desk and
went to the bed curling into a ball. She wanted so badly to fall asleep, for a week or a month or a year. Maybe by then she could
wake up and pretend this was all just a horrible nightmare. But her head ached
too much for sleep and the million questions she didn’t get to ask Frankie, those he couldn't answer anyway, swirled endlessly in her head.

She now knew her mother was Donna Makowski from Queens, New
York. Where was she right now? Was it likely that she still lived in
Queens? Not very, she imagined. Was she even alive? Cassandra pressed her eyes
tightly shut, praying she was. She would give almost anything to see her mother
just once, perhaps get to know her a little bit, but that could be asking too
much.

Would Donna Makowski want to know her first child, though?
Surely she was married with other children by now. Would she want this painful
part of her early years to resurface? Would it cause more pain or be a healing
sort of thing?

Who knew?

Cassandra wiped away another tear as she thought of her mother,
wondering what she looked like. She had hated so very much not having a mother. She never imagined her mother could actually still be alive. Could she maybe find her and find out
for sure if she didn’t want to know her first child?

“How many Donna Makowski’s could there be?” Cassandra mumbled as she grabbed her cell phone. She punched in
the name on the search bar and no less than forty-seven showed up and that was
just on the first page.

Casandra frowned as she ran her finger down the list. Oddly
enough, most of the Donna Makowskis she could see were way too old to be her
mother, a couple of them were too young
and none seemed to be from Queens.

She shook her head in despair. Short of a
miracle, she’d never find her mother on her own, dead or
alive…not without professional help, but who and how could they find someone who
might now be living in Timbuktu under another name or—this thought made her
hurt all over-- not alive at all? Just as she closed her eyes, silently
begging God for guidance, she turned her face into her pillow as more tears formed, and she felt her phone
vibrate.

“What the…” she said, looking at it. “Damn, I did it again.” There was an incoming call, but no sound because she had once again accidentally lowered the volume. After only one ring it stopped. That was when
she remembered the text which she never got the chance to read when Frankie
came up to her room.

Looking at her phone she was nothing less than
stunned to see it was from Simon, the last person she expected to ever hear
from again. She bit her lip and read the text: “R U OK? Can I C U?”

She actually smiled as
she texted back: “How did you know?” but before she could hit send the phone rang again and amazing
as it was, it was actually Simon.

“Simon,” she gasped.

“Cassandra, finally! I sent you a text, called a couple times and…”

“Sorry, the volume was down and ...Simon, how did you know?” she interrupted.

“Know what?” he said.

“That I needed you,” she said.

“Need me? Why? Cassandra, what’s wrong?” he asked, alarmed.

“I’ll tell you everything when…if…” she said, holding the phone tightly to her
ear as tears slipped down her cheeks again. “I know I’m asking a lot, Simon, but is there any way you can come over?”

“No… yes, I mean…um… it’s better if you don’t. So… um… stay in your car, okay?” she said, anxiously biting her lip as she watched him look utterly
perplexed as he obediently got back into his car.

She was so happy to see him, yet what good was it if she couldn’t talk to him face to face? She got the craziest idea that somehow
he was her knight in shining armor--or rather a shiny silver Porsche. If only there
was some way he could help her… if he was willing.

The idea came to her in a rush, insane as it was, and without
thinking she set it in motion, reckless of the consequences.

“I’m gonna ask you for a very huge favor, but
first, can you wait for me around the bend, out of sight so nobody in my house can
see you? I’ll come as quick as I can…could take a while, cuz
I have to sneak out,” she said in a rush. “I know I’m asking a lot…”

“I will wait, Cassandra…as long as it takes,” he said, starting the car, pulling out of the
driveway. “I’ll do just about anything for you.”

Her icy heart melted a tiny bit hearing that. “Thank you, Simon,” she said, watching him go slowly down the
street until she couldn’t see him around the curve in the road. “You’re possibly the only friend I have left in the
world.”

“I doubt that,” he said. “Cassandra, please tell
me what happened?”

“I’ll tell you everything when I get out there,” she said, semi-desperately. “I’ll try to be quick. Just stay there, wait for me, okay?”

Simon stared at the phone after she disconnected, shaking his
head. “What the hell happened to her?”

Cassandra made up her mind quickly. She needed to leave home and
Simon was her only chance. She had no plan except to find refuge with someone
she could trust. Sophie was the first obvious choice but that was also the
first place her brother/father would look for her and she certainly didn’t want to be found…at least not until she
damn well felt like being found.

“So, where can I go?” she mumbled to herself,
as she neatly though rapidly packed her luggage with what she deemed most
essential. Placing the last things in the suitcase and zipping it up she said, “I’ll pretend I’m Scarlet O’Hara and I’ll think about it tomorrow.”

She grabbed her purse and counted the money she had there, a
total of twenty-three dollars and fifty-three cents. That wouldn’t take her very far….wouldn’t even pay for one night at the cheapest motel down on I-90 and
it was a holiday so no banks would be open until tomorrow. Nothing she could do
about that. She stuffed her bankbook into her purse.

She grabbed her suitcase by the handle, shouldered a huge totebag and purse, needlessly tiptoed down the
hall and down the usually squeaky stairs, lugging the heavy bags as best she could without much noise, but with the racket coming from downstairs, nobody heard a thing. At the front door she slipped on her snowy white winter coat, stepped into her knee-high boots and was just about to open
the door when from the family room in
crawled her freshly awakened from a nap baby cousin Annabella, squealing to be picked up and in need of a diaper change.

“No, Annabella,” Cassandra said in a whisper. “I can’t deal with you now. Go back to mama, okay? I have
to go.”

The baby’s lip quivered, huge tear drops welled in her
coal colored eyes and two seconds later she screamed at the top of her lungs.

“No, you don’t, you little brat. It’s always about you, isn’t it? Well, not this
time, kid. It’s my turn,” Cassandra mumbled,
whipping the front door open, dragging her luggage, sprinting down the steps
and running full out down the sidewalk toward Simon, her waiting Prince
Charming.

It may have been Christmas Day for everyone else, but for
Cassandra this was her Independence day.

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Violet’s in Bloom is set in modern times in a fictitious small town, Catalpa Valley in upstate New York. The story centers around three people, one desperate for love and family, the other just as desperately holding onto the past and the ghost who unwittingly stands in their way.

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